Chapter Text
Her footsteps echoed in the muted silence of the night, the deserted corridor in the wee hours of the morning had been a daily commute in her busy schedule for three months now. The door loomed imposingly before her, the black-clad guards stepped aside at her presence and she made her way through, approaching the retinal scanner that allowed access only to those few staff who had permission.
Cassandra Kiramman.
Permission granted.
The door opened, allowing her to enter the room full of computers under constant surveillance, with technical and laboratory equipment in which a team of thirty scientists were working at full capacity. The project had started more than eight months ago, but the last three months had seen progress in the research.
"Welcome, Mrs. Kiramman," greeted the old man, a slight nod of his head as he gestured with his hand towards the second room on the premises.
"Doctor, I hope you have good news for me," Cassandra said, her voice holding a menacing monotone as they approached the glass window that maintained a temperature below 10 ˚C.
"The serum is ready, after Election Day we'll set the tests in motion, Dauntless will have a load of initiates to give us like mice," the Doctor assured her, opening the glass case and pulling out a glass of a translucent liquid of a peculiar yellowish colour.
"Perfect, we'll start with the fear serum first, assess their reactions and then move on to using the correction serum," Cassandra explained, knowing that her orders would be carried out without protest.
"Are you sure your daughter will choose Erudite? If the girl chooses Dauntless she will have to be part of the project, the investors won't allow it otherwise," asked the Doctor, worried about any event that might disrupt his research.
"Caitlyn knows her place as the daughter of the leader of the Erudite faction," said Cassandra, looking firmly at the Doctor, who was unfazed by her piercing gaze.
"But the day of the test is coming, and you well know that test results sometimes alter a young person's choices," the Doctor commented, as if to explain to Cassandra that she was asserting something beyond her control.
"Your job is all your business, I'll take care of my daughter," Cassandra replied, her murderous gaze marking the edge of her words.
"Understood," he agreed, bowing his head to the powerful woman.
Cassandra barely gave him another glance before she withdrew, her blue dress turning greenish as she passed the incubators containing the yellowish liquid that made up the new serum. The Doctor merely shook his head softly, hoping that everything would go the way the woman wanted it to, his plans depended on it.